Desire and Duty
by the edge of night
Summary: One-shot. Regulus knew what he had to do, and he knew that no matter what fanciful thoughts came into his head, he would listen to his parents' wishes and become a Death Eater.


**A/N: thanks to iluvsnuffles for getting me back in my Regulus groove. I've always been very fascinated with him and I don't think JKR did his character enough justice. It seems as if I'm popping out all these stories all at once, but it turns out I've had a lot of time this summer to finish all of my WIP's so I'm just beginning to put them all out.**

Regulus skulked around the corridors of the third floor, trying to get rid of the dark thoughts that followed him wherever he went. A sharp bark-like laugh jolted him to his senses, but before he could slink away, his older brother Sirius, without his band of merry men, appeared.

"Well if it isn't my little brother," Sirius sneered mockingly at him. He flicked his shaggy fringe out of his eyes and stared down at Regulus.

"Leave me alone, blood traitor." Regulus replied half heartedly. Sirius growled at him and raised his wand threateningly. Regulus raised his, more as an afterthought. He was sick and tired of the same old dance done by the two brothers.

"Has Voldemort made you into one of his little followers yet?" asked Sirius.

"Don't pretend you know anything about Voldemort." said Regulus with exasperation. Sirius glared at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sarcastically. "Are his followers only privy to this information?"

"Sirius," Regulus sighed. He couldn't think of anything to say to him, so he rolled up the sleeves of his skinny forearms and exposed the pale unmarked flesh to his brother. Sirius' eyes widened in shock, and he pursed his lips.

"So," he said finally, "you haven't turned to the dark side- yet." Regulus opened his mouth to say that he wasn't sure if he could do it, that he needed his brother's help, but Sirius beat him to it. "Well it's only a matter of time. You're just like them." Sirius snapped, before turning back the way he had come.

Regulus pressed his back up against the cold stone wall. The flickering of the torches illuminated his lonely shadow, and gave the gloomy hallway an even gloomier atmosphere. He slammed his fist against the wall, scraping his hand on the stone. The throbbing pain allowed him to concentrate.

He wanted power. There was no doubt about that. But he was mostly following his parents' wishes, because in the end, that was his role. Sirius had claimed the role of the metaphorical 'black sheep', so it was Regulus' job as the last son of Walburgha and Orion Black to be the obedient one. Regulus loved his family, even Sirius, his childhood best friend. But sometimes duty came before self-interests, and becoming a Death Eater was his duty.

This realization troubled him. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that no matter what fanciful thoughts came into his head, he would listen to his parents' wishes and become a Death Eater.

Regulus stared at his marked arm, disgust and self-loathing curling in his stomach. The ugly skull grinned back at him mockingly, whispering "weak... weak..." to him. He screamed in rage and threw his wand across the room where it made a smacked loudly against the wall and then dropped to the ground, where it lay, mercifully, unbroken.

"_Well it's only a matter of time. You're just like them."_ The bitter words of Sirius echoed throughout the Prefect's bathroom. Regulus sunk into the awaiting bath, diving deep underwater to escape the haunting words.

As he floated, suspended in a mix of warm water and bubble bath, he wondered what would happen if he just simply did not come back out of the water. He waited, pushing himself until he could feel his lungs contracting desperately for air. He finally pushed himself back up and gasped frantically for air. Regulus clung to the bathtub, angry at his own foolishness. Suicide was _not_ how a Black dealt with things. No, he must find a way to manipulate the situation to his liking.

He would absorb all the power and information he could. He would learn as much of the Dark Arts that the Dark Lord could offer to him. He would gain the Dark Lord's trust, become his most trusted follower; and then, when the time was right, he would strike. He would use the Dark Lord's information to bring about his destruction. It would be dangerous, and he would have to work harder to prove himself above all others, but he would succeed. And then he would be known as the greatest wizard to usurp the Dark Lord. And then he would be able to get his brother back.


End file.
